


Cheating Girlfriends Need Not Apply

by BerryPaw



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerryPaw/pseuds/BerryPaw
Summary: Seeking: Roommate to share 2br loft in HightownMust have source of income. No pets. One bedroom with shared bathroom and kitchen. High speed wi-fi and cable included. Cheating girlfriends need not apply.Dalia Hawke got a lot more than she bargained for when she agreed to let this odd little elf move in, but maybe it's not such a bad thing?





	1. Seeking Roommate

“You know I can't, Dalia. I've already got a place. Besides, I don't want to hear you and Fenris fighting all the time.”

Dalia Hawke heaved an exaggerated sigh into the mic of her phone. “You're breaking my balls here, Cai. I can't afford this place on my own!”

A growling voice came over her twin’s end of the phone. “Deal with it, Hawke. He's not moving.” Before she could get a word in, the line was dead. Fucking Fenris. Showed up right after she graduated and stole her brother out from under her before she even got to say goodbye.

Okay, that was being harsh. They had been sweethearts in school. It had  _ felt _ like he swooped in and took Cai away from Kirkwall, but she had known it was going to happen. Everyone did. She simply chose to ignore it for as long as possible.  Her problems with his beau aside, Cai was happy and comfortable, something that Hawke was hard pressed to be upset about were it not for her current situation.

Settling back into her couch, she flipped through the contacts on her phone to look for another lifeline, stopping to pause on a name.   _ Isabela. _ Maker, this was all her fault.  She held the name down until the screen flashed an option to delete the contact.   _ ‘She lied to you, Dal. Moved into your apartment and then your heart and then ran off with some fuckboy from Antiva. Just delete her.’   _ Even with their history, she hovered over that button for a long minute before backing out again. Couldn’t do it.  Not yet. Soon. 

Instead, she opened up a tab on her phone’s browser, navigating to BlackEmporium. As much as she hated the idea of a stranger living in her apartment, putting out an ad for a roommate was something she couldn’t avoid for long if she wanted to keep her pretty little loft on the edge of Hightown. She might manage two months on the combination of her salary and savings, assuming she didn’t mind living off of rice and water.  No, this was necessary.  Clacking her nails against the back of her phone case, she began to type up her ad.  
  


_ Seeking: Roommate to share 2br loft in Hightown _

_ Must have source of income. No pets. One bedroom with shared bathroom and kitchen. High speed wi-fi and cable included. Cheating girlfriends need not apply. Call or text XXX-555-1417 for more info. _  
  


Short, sweet, and to the point. Just needs a couple of photos to seal the deal.  Pushing herself to her feet, she swept around the rooms, snapping a couple of photos of the main area.  She angled herself this way and that for a moment, trying to catch the perfect shots of the large bay window by the kitchen and the way that it overlooked the courtyard below, little bits of the sea in the distance shimmering between buildings.  She was enjoying herself, having forgotten some of the reasons that she fell in love with the apartment in the first place in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. She was practically dancing through the apartment until she reached the end of the hall.  Then, all at once, her exuberance deflated.  Pinpricks dug into her chest as her hand fell onto the doorknob.  Bela’s room.

_ “Come on, sweetheart,” her former lover pleaded, leaning her well endowed body in just such a way that her already low cut shirt fell forward to reveal more of her deeply tanned chest as she leaned against the doorframe.  “You know it didn’t mean anything.  I come home to you at night.   _ **That** _ means something!”  The Rivani beauty grasped at her hands, pleading with those golden hazel eyes that she’d used on her so many times before, her trademark charm that always worked on Hawke.  Almost always. _

_ “I’m done, Bela.  I can’t do this anymore.”  She hid her eyes under her long bangs, knowing that even a glance could ruin her already fragile composure.  It took everything she had to not look up, to not give in to the woman that she had loved for nearly a year.  It would be easy to just smile and open her arms, let her back in, but that wouldn’t solve anything.  “Just take your shit and go.  I’m sure your boy toy will let you crash with him.  You know how to work your magic.”  Tears blurred her vision and she ripped her hands away, dragging herself to her own room and locking the door behind her.  Her ears registered that Isabela was talking to her still, but she had stopped listening. She couldn’t let herself be swayed again.   _

Sucking up her courage, she cracked open the door for the first time since Isabela had left.  The room looked like it could have been empty for years.  A full bed stripped of linens on one side and a small dresser with empty drawers hanging open on the other, the stark white walls betraying the memory of her colorful beauty that was here only a week before.  No more band posters.  No clothes all over the floor.  Even the seemingly permanent smell of her perfume, something that always reminded her of the smell of sunshine and sea air mixed with an intoxicating note that was so wholly  _ Bela _ , was gone.  It wasn’t her room anymore.  It was just a memory now.

Three matter-of-fact photos later and Hawke quickly retreated back to her couch, forcing herself to rake in deep breaths to stave off the iron ball dropped into her stomach.  Through it all, it hadn’t felt so final until that moment. She had made her choice, but still the feeling that she had done the wrong thing hung over her. Sure, Isabela wasn’t perfect. She was bawdy and loud, always leaving messes for Hawke to clean when she came home, always getting into some kind of trouble that Hawke had to go save her from. But that was her charm, wasn’t it? There was always a tale that went with it all.  She wasn’t caught shoplifting, she was trying to stop a pervert and conveniently forgot that she had put makeup in her purse. She wasn’t sleeping with this guy, he was an old friend from high school that she just wanted to spend some time with and their old stories would be so boring that it wasn’t worth staying for.  There was always a reason and she had just rolled with each one, never questioning, never doubting. 

_ ‘No going back now,’  _ she sighed to herself. Thinking about the past wasn’t going to change anything except her current darkening mood.  A quick glance over the photos as she added them and the ad was posted.

-

Three days, two 12-hour shifts, and more useless texts than she could count later, Hawke was debating breaking her lease and moving home. Her mom would be happy. Younger siblings probably less so.  And her? She would be miserable. She had gotten out of her family home as soon as she had two paychecks in her pocket from the vet tech job she had gotten nearly straight out of college, and that had still not been soon enough for her. She loved her family to pieces, of course, but being in a house with moody twin teenagers and a mother that only vaguely disguised the distaste she had for her older daughter and son’s romance preferences? Not what she needed. Especially not now.  

So when her phone buzzed with the arrival of a text from a new, unknown number, she was at least hopeful.

_ ‘Hello there!  Um.  I found your ad on BE.  The one for the roommate that is.  You might have other ads.  That’s the one I’m replying to.  I’m sorry, I haven’t done this before.  Can I come see the place?  I’ve got income and money saved up and I can move in any time!  That sounds bad.  I really need somewhere to stay.’ _

Hawke almost deleted the text.  Another weirdo, obviously.  But something about the text made her a bit curious.  It wouldn’t hurt to at least humor them.  See how serious this one really was.

_ ‘I’m off work the rest of the evening. Working all day tomorrow, so you have to come today. Chantry Gardens in west Hightown, apartment 512.’ _

Her phone buzzed again shortly, earning a smirk from Hawke.  They were eager at least.

_ ‘Okay, I’m on my way right now!  I’m on the other side of town and I only have my bike so it’ll take me a while, but I’ll be there as soon as I can! Please don’t give someone else the room before I get there. You probably have a lot of people asking about it and all but it really won’t take me long.  Quick as I can.’ _

It was hard to not laugh at the text as she set about tidying up the apartment some, not bothering to reply. At worst, she’d have something to laugh at for a couple of days, right?  She chuckled to herself while changing out of her work-dirtied scrubs and into worn out lounge pants and a loose tee, stolen from her brother so long ago that he probably didn’t even remember. No sense in dressing up for someone who had a chance of living with her soon. They’d be seeing her house clothes if they moved in, better get them used to it now.

Nearly an hour later, there was finally a knock on her door.  Two quick taps. Hawke moved from the kitchen where she was unknowingly pacing and prepared herself to stare some weirdo down as she opened the door to...a scrawny elf girl, slumping on top of a beat up bicycle.  Her hair was knotted with beads and cropped to her chin, strands scattered and tangled in a messy crown, presumably from the ride over.  Looking her over, she decided that scrawny wasn’t the right word for the girl.  Her bare stomach showed just hints of muscles underneath, nestled beneath a fringed crop top and jeans that sat low enough to draw the eye down to hips begging to be squeezed.

“Oh creators, please tell me you’re the one with the ad for the roommate.  This is the third apartment I’ve been to and the last one said that they were going to call the cops on me.  They said I looked homeless.  I suppose I am?  Still, not a nice thing of them to say.”

Oh no, she’s really cute.  

“Chill out, you’re at the right apartment.  Come on in.”  She paused mid-turn from the door, adding, “Bring your bike in.  This area is safe, but that thing will totally walk off on you.”

“How is my bike going to walk off?  It hasn’t got any legs.”

Dumb, but cute.

“It’s a figure of speech.  Seriously though, bring your bike inside.”

“Right!”  The girl ambled in the door behind Hawke, closing it behind her and leaning her bike against it.  Suddenly alert, she began to ramble again.  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even ask your name!  Or give you mine.  I’m Merrill.  Aneth ara.”

The bit of ancient Elven and the slight lilt of her accent caught Hawke’s attention, drawing a hair of a smile to her lips.  Not many people still used the language anymore, and those that did usually didn’t speak it well. Merrill, however, made it sound second nature.  Hawke couldn’t say that she knew much herself, but she was pretty sure it was some sort of common greeting.  “I’m Hawke.  Dalia Hawke.  The room’s this way.”  She peeked over her shoulder to watch Merrill stare around the apartment as she led her through the main room.  There was some sort of childlike wonder painted over her face, all wide eyes and toothy grin.  It was hard not to smile along with her, her happiness was simply that contagious, and it only got worse when she saw the nearly empty bedroom.

“The room comes with a  _ bed _ ?  I haven’t had a bed like this in...well I don’t really know but it’s been a long time! And this dresser!” She darted across the room, pulling out the drawers of the dresser and inspecting them closely.  “This is just lovely!  A bit of sanding and some paint, maybe new handles?  This would be just darling!  Oh you have to let me stay here!” Those green doe eyes had turned onto her, sparkling in excitement.

“I...that is…” she stumbled, suddenly at a loss for words. Her hands palmed at her thighs, wiping away the beginnings of a nervous sweat.  “As long as you can make rent, I mean-” Before Hawke even finished her thought, wiry arms were thrown around her in a tight hug.  Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and she cautiously put an arm around the elf’s back, easily surrounding her tiny body.

“You won’t regret this!  I promise!”

  
Hawke regretted everything.


	2. Domesticated

It was sincerely baffling how quickly someone could completely fill a room with junk. It really was.  Sure, she did manage to sell some of it in her hole-in-the-wall shop in Lowtown, but the rest...

Within days of Merrill moving in, Hawke found bits and pieces of her assorted belongings slowly creeping into the living room, her dainty, vintage inspirations adding life to what was once a very spartan home. A wooden bucket filled with blooming daisies in the kitchen window. A quilt that was more patch than original fabric draped across the back of her angular, black leather couch. Other pieces were...less charming. A nightstand with a chunk taken out of the corner and peeling layers of dirty mauve colored paint that she had caught with her pinky toe three times since it had showed up. A grungy green ottoman that was missing one of its legs, something that she had learned the hard way when she went to sit on it and found herself ass over end on the floor.

Toeing on her work shoes and knotting her scrub bottoms as she stepped out of her room, Hawke  stared at the closed door to the other bedroom. Merrill’s bedroom. The pull of the elf’s cuteness was wearing thin over the two months she had been there, overshadowed by her incessant weirdness. The little songs she hummed while working on her projects were sweet at first, but grated on the nerves after the umpteenth repeat at the tired hours of night. Her little painting projects were pretty, but finding paintbrushes in her favorite coffee cup when she went to make coffee before work wasn't.

Annoyances aside, she had been true to her word about having the rent money at least. She had showed up the morning after their first meeting, bright and early, her belongings piled in the back of a pristine gold SUV. Hawke didn't have time for a proper introduction to the woman who dropped her off, but she did manage an impression of sorts. The greyed elf had caught her on her way to her car, not long after she had traded her spare key to Merrill for a stack of crisp bills in a nondescript envelope, and imparted some mildly creepy advice.

_ “There are few things in this world more powerful than a promise kept. Remember that. Take care of her.” _

Merrill had insisted, later that night while they shared a pizza Hawke had brought home after work, that Marethari (her foster mother, she had found out) was always like that and to pay her no mind. Still, the words weighed on her mind as she trudged through what was becoming her new daily routines. It took all she had to bite off her words when she went to slip out the door to work and found herself face to face with her roommate, her bike steered with one hand while carting a large mirror under her other arm. A large,  _ broken _ mirror.

“Oh! Hawke! Good morning! Sorry if I woke you. It's trash day and the people here in Hightown always throw away the most interesting things. Someone was just tossing out this mirror, but it's just so beautiful! I think it's antique Elvhen. I have to get it inside to look at it first and...oh dear, you're on your way to work and I'm in your way. I didn't realize.”

“It's just a broken mirror, Merrill. It's trash.”

The words had dripped from Hawke’s tongue before she realized it. They were less harsh than her thoughts, by far, but the way the elf’s beaming face crumpled still made her near-instantly regret them. Unable to muster the words to apologize, she darted past and left her in the doorway, feeling utterly sick minutes later as she wove her little red hatchback through the winding streets into Lowtown.

_ ‘I'll just give her a call on my lunch break. Apologize for snapping at her and blame it on it being early. Sure, it's a lie, but it'll make her feel better.’ _

-

She didn't take a lunch break. Not for avoiding calling her roommate, of course, and the weight of the call she had planned to make pressed heavy on her mind while she slogged through her day. There was simply no time. A mabari needing stitches that decided her forearm was a chew toy. A pair of feisty felines that nearly climbed up one side of her and down the other to avoid getting their nails trimmed.  Three major surgeries to assist, two of which didn't make it. Watching a whole family sob while putting down a dog that was as old as the teenager with them.

It was...not a good day.

Hawke dragged herself up to their doorway, plans for a quick apology, a microwaved dinner, and a hot shower spinning through her head as she slipped her key into the deadbolt. As the door opened, however, she was greeted with the stinging smell of burning food and the sounds of quiet sobs from behind the island in the kitchen.  Door ajar and keys still in the lock, she was sprinting across the entry and would have surely slid around the corner if she hadn't still been in her work shoes. Merrill was curled to the floor, a pan filled with some sort of burned meat, black and still slightly smoking, in front of her on a towel. Her eyes were red and damp with tears, hair twisted and spiked as if she had been pulling it, and she kept her head low even as Hawke knelt before her.

“I just wanted to make something nice. You've been working so hard and you don't get to eat fancy food and I-” She bit back a hiccuping sob, her hand clutching the handle of the pan as if it would fall through the floor if she didn't. “I just wanted to make something nice.”  All at once, the pan was pulled from her hand and slid across the floor.  Where it was, Hawke was now sitting, pulling Merrill's lanky body to her soft one with a pair of strong arms. Sure, her left arm burned painfully from the exertion, bite wounds hidden under a wrapped bandage, but she paid it no mind.

“You idiot.  You didn’t have to do this.”  She fought back tears of her own, squeezing the elf’s bony shoulders a bit tighter for a long moment before releasing her.

“But you were in such a bad mood this morning when you left.”  Merrill turned those mossy hazel eyes up to her, brows pulled together like she was being punished.  “I shouldn’t have brought that mirror.  I have enough projects already and-”

“Stop it.”  Hawke cut her off.  “It’s beautiful.  You’re be-  ...It’s fine, okay?  I don’t mind your projects.”  A bit of a flush crept up from her chest, thankfully hidden by the fringe of her hair that had refused to stay in a bun with the rest.  Did she really just almost call her roommate beautiful? No telling where that had come from.  She just looked so tiny and precious curled up like this, even with tears still in her eyes. “Come on, get up.  Let me get changed and we can go grab some food.  My treat.” 

The two rose, grabbing the counter and each other's hands for balance. Hawke tossed the pan in the sink to deal with later and slipped over to her room to change. Returning in threadbare jean shorts and a tank top, her hair down from its work-time constraints, she flopped onto her couch to tug on socks and boots.

“How do you feel about Tevene? There's a really nice little place a couple of blocks over that we can go. Don't even have to take the car.”

“That sounds lovely.”

Looking up, she met eyes with Merrill again.  That was happening way too often. She violently averted her gaze to her feet, momentarily forgetting how to tie her laces and tangling her fingers in them. It was way too hot in the living room. Must have been from the stove. Definitely.  Her hands finally cooperated long enough to make some sort of knots and she shoved herself to her feet, eager to be moving again despite the deep ache that pulsed up from her heels after her long shift.

“Come on. I'll lead the way.” Hawke held out a hand to usher Merrill out the door and instead found the elf gently holding onto her arm as they stepped out together. “I...uh...stay close, okay? It's getting late and I don't want you to get lost.” Why was it so damn hard to keep her composure? Her hands fumbled again and the lock as she pulled the door shut behind them, barely managing to get her keys from the lock and into her pocket. 

“Of course, Hawke.” 

That voice would be the death of her.

-

Their walk in the cool air was calm and mostly silent, only punctuated with little snippets of conversation here and there. Comments on the weather. Warnings to watch for cars. A short muse on how pretty Kirkwall was at night. Merrill’s hand left a warm patch on Hawke's otherwise chilly arm when she released it to grab the door of the restaurant.

Their meal was pleasant, amplified by the homely atmosphere of the building.  The two girls nestled into a little corner booth, making quiet conversation over crusty bread and strong cheeses while they waited for their main courses.

“I was never really in one place long enough to learn to cook. The Alienage shelter didn't have a kitchen that we could use and Marethari never had the time to teach me. She's got a whole clan of us foster kids at home. Probably glad to be rid of me, honestly. Empty another bed for someone.” She looked down forlornly, dabbing a bit of bread into the dish of oil they were given.

“I can take you to visit if you want?” Hawke broke a piece of cheese in half, popping it into her mouth and savoring the buttery flavor for a minute before continuing.  “I know you said she lives out of town, but I don’t mind driving.  I don’t do much on my days off.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that for me,” Merrill cut in, crumbs falling out of her mouth as she spoke around her bite.  She swallowed roughly.  “They won’t care if I don’t come back by.  The other kids don’t like me much.  They think I’m weird.”  There was a weak smile with the last few words, but it didn’t reach her eyes.  

“I don’t think you’re weird.” 

“You’re sweet, Hawke.”  

There was that tone again, the one that made Hawke’s face go alight.  She’d felt that way before with Bela, but it was always in reaction to some reaction to some scandalous secret or lusty whisper, never just kind phrases.  Where her former love had been confident and downright raunchy, compelling the people around her to attention, Merrill was sweet and soft, drawing her in like a fly to honey that was just for her.  Realizing the implications of her thoughts, Hawke was relieved to see their entrees arriving.  She dove into her plate with gusto, attacking the poor piece of grilled fish with her fork as if destroying it would bury the feelings that clawed at her mind.

“You must really like fish!”

_ ‘Yes, Merrill. I really do like it. The fish, obviously.’   _ She chuckled at her thoughts, just nodding a bit and keeping her mouth filled with food so she didn’t betray herself with words.

-

A filling meal and another quiet walk later, the pair ascended the last flight of stairs to their floor, food comas staved off by the little bit of exercise and the cool breeze that had them bumping shoulders and hips as they huddled for warmth.

“Hey there, Hawke.  Who’s the cutie?”

The coy Rivaini accent shot sparks through Hawke’s spine, her hand tightening where it rested on Merrill’s shoulder to a point that must have been uncomfortable.  If she noticed, she didn’t say anything, instead squeezing her friend’s arm back in concern.

“Isabela.  What are you doing here?”  Hawke’s voice was dripping with venom as she clutched Merrill protectively to her side.  She wasn’t sure if it was for Merrill’s protection or her own.

“Hey, cool it down sweetheart.  I know you’re still mad, but I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“You’ve done enough by showing up here at all.”  

“Come on, Dalia…”  Isabela purred out her first name, stepping closer, only to be brushed past as Hawke dragged Merrill to the door.  Key in lock.  Twist.  Push.  Focus was broken as the elf at her side gasped and twisted back to Isabela, mumbling in Elven as light streamed out of their apartment and lit up the landing outside the door.  

Every drop of Hawke’s anger fell through the floor as her eyes followed.  “Fuck, Bela.  What happened?”  Her hands were off of her roommate in an instant, gently finding the sides of the Rivaini’s face and looking over the features that she had memorized over the course of countless nights.  Her beautiful golden eyes were tired, sunk in, and a red patch beneath one of them was beginning to show the purple of a fresh bruise.  Her lips, normally irresistibly kissable, were cracked and only barely stopped oozing blood, traces of it smeared across her chin and cheek.  Trailing her fingers down, she found handprints on her shoulders, red but fading. Isabela’s words snapped her out of her examination.

“You know me. I got in a fight. Got kicked out. I guess my old room is gone, but maybe there's space on your couch?”  She had let out a weak laugh with her words, but all of it echoed a feeling that was rare in her: fear. Steeled by that feeling, Hawke slipped into past roles, pulling her former lover under her arm gently.

“Merrill, take my keys and go grab the black bag out of the hatch of my car. There's a first aid kit in it. I'm gonna get Bela inside.”

Hearing an affirmative sound from the elf, she stepped inside, pulling Isabela with her. 

“That little peach really got you to do something with the place. I'm impressed.”

Hawke frowned at the joking words, releasing her onto the couch.  Her mind knew that she was trying to lighten the mood, but she couldn’t stand the distraction.

“Stay here, honey. I'm gonna grab a rag.”

Shit. She didn't just say that.


	3. The Rivaini

Between Hawke’s experience dealing with animals and Merrill’s willingness to follow instructions, they had Isabela’s face cleaned up in record time.  The injuries were far less severe than they looked, things that would heal decently quickly with proper care. Sure, her lip might scar a bit, but imperfections like that only served to add to her fierce allure.  Her wounded pride was a far different story.

“You wanna talk about it?” Hawke spoke up a nearly a week later, stretched out comfortably on one side of her couch with Isabela draped across the other side, head in her lap. A cheesy romance movie was playing on the tv, but they were both only barely watching it.  They had fallen into their old rituals quickly, minus their late night activities.  Hawke made a strict point of locking her bedroom door when she went to sleep.  Not that she didn’t trust Isabela but...no, she didn’t trust her.  Not at all.

“Mmm….nah.” The bronzed minx stretched out playfully and inched a bit further into her friend’s lap.  “I can think of... _ other things _ we could talk about though,” she purred, lazily running her fingers up and down Hawke’s thigh, pausing to give her hip a tight squeeze.  The larger girl tensed slightly, staring down at the grinning fool in her lap.

“Bela…”

“Oh gosh!  I didn’t mean to interrupt!  I can come back later! There was another bin that I wanted to go check. It’s no trouble.”  

Hawke rocketed off the couch at the sound of Merrill’s voice, nearly throwing Bela to the floor as well.  She could see a flush on the elf’s cheeks beneath her delicate tattoos as she stared at her feet, and felt heat rushing to her own cheeks.  

“You’re not interrupting  _ anything. _ ” She shot daggers back down to Isabela over her shoulder, getting a cheeky smile and dancing eyebrows in return as she sat up.  “This is your place too.  You don’t have to feel unwelcome.”

“You could always join in.  I could teach you some of Dalia’s weak points.  Have her purring like a kitten.”

Isabela’s words shot not-unpleasant memories to the front of her thoughts as well as a fresh tsunami of blood to her already red face.

“Weak points?’ Merrill paused. “I don’t know what you...Oh!  Oh gosh!  That’s!  I really don’t want to interrupt.  You two have fun and I’ll just come back later.  I’ll make sure to knock.”

Before Hawke could get a word in edgewise, the dainty girl had fled the apartment, pale face flushed.  She took a step towards the door, hands balled to fists at her sides, before spinning on her heels to face the source of her now boiling anger.

“BELA. WHAT. THE. FUCK.”

“Well you sure as hell aren’t making a move on your own!”

_ CRACK. _

Hawke’s hand had moved on instinct, the sting of her palm and the red blossoming across Isabela’s cheek the only signs that told her that she had really done it. The shock on the Rivaini’s face as she grasped it was heartbreaking, enough to send Hawke to her knees, eyes on the hardwood beneath her.

“Shit, Bela. I didn't mean...I shouldn't have…”

“Well you did. Glad to know you finally grew in your fucking teeth.” The words were sharp, seething. “All you did before was bark.” 

She registered the leather squeaking as Isabela rose from the couch, her bare feet slapping across the floor, and the sound of the front door being yanked open.

“I hope you treat your new toy better than you did me.  She won’t come back like I always do.”

The slam of the heavy door echoed through the now empty apartment, drawing tears to her eyes.

-

It was hours later that the door creaked back open.  Hawke hadn’t moved from where she knelt on the floor in front of the couch, tears long since dried but eyes still stinging.  She didn’t even flinch when a hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“Hawke?”

Merrill’s soft whisper wasn’t the voice she had expected to hear, but she stayed still nonetheless.

“Merrill.  Don’t,” she started, but couldn’t find words.  The hand on her shoulder tightened, gently massaging out the tension she held before being joined by a matching one on her other side.  Slowly, her guard began to drop and tears threatened to fall again.

“I’m sorry for running off earlier.  I can find another place if you need?  I don’t want to come between you two...”  

Snapped from her trance, Hawke swivelled to face her.

“No.  Fuck no.  You’ve got it all wrong.”  She scrubbed at her eyes, trying to force herself to not cry.  “Isabela and I have...history.  But it’s not like that.  Not anymore.”  Pasting on a smile, she looked up, catching those gorgeous green eyes above her.  Her hand swung out to the couch, first pulling herself up and onto it before patting an invitation into the cushion across from her.  As soon as the elf had sunk in next to her, words began to tumble from her lips.

How she had met Isabela in college.  The way they flirted their way through their few shared classes.  The breaks they had spent together. Coming together after they graduated and getting the little apartment they shared.

The late nights.  The fun dates and parties.  The screaming matches that ended in slamming doors.  The makeups that were equally loud.  The horrible way Bela had treated her.  Her own terrible actions that justified it.  The tortuous back and forth of good times and bad times.

The endings.  The restarts.  The reveal.  The last straw.

All of it came out.  Hawke wasn’t sure why she wanted to say it all, especially to Merrill of all people, but the elf simply nodded along, smiling sadly and occasionally blushing at the more salacious bits.  There was no judgement in her eyes.  None of the expected snark just waiting to be thrown back at her.  As her words stopped, she found herself wrapped in stringy arms, the smell of flowers and paint and warmth invading her senses.  She wasn’t sure what she expected, but that was definitely not it.  Unable to stop herself, she pulled Merrill to her chest, locking shaky arms around her and burying her face into a bony shoulder as her tears started again.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat in that embrace.  At some point, Merrill had started stroking her hair and mumbling elven words.  She couldn’t make out any of it, but the same words were repeated amidst others, over and over again.

_ Ma vhenan. _

Even not knowing the meaning, the words were comforting, warm.

-

Some point later in the evening, while Hawke and Merrill were quietly chatting about nothing in the kitchen over cheap takeout, Isabela dragged herself back in, stumbling over her feet and reeking of cheap ale. No words were said about the fight.  Merrill took the lead, setting slipping herself under the taller girl and leading her back into her bedroom.  After coaxing her into her old bed, the elf slipped back out, a pleasant smile on her face.

“We can save the peace talks for tomorrow.  She needs to rest now.”  

Hawke only nodded in agreement, mouth too full of spicy Antivan noodles to comment at first.  After meals were finished and the kitchen was in the process of being picked up, however, a bit of nervousness draped itself over the back of her mind.

“So uh...if she’s sleeping in your bed, where are you going to sleep?”

Merrill looked up from the fork she was cleaning, shrugging before continuing to scrub at it.  “The couch, I suppose?  It’s no worse than the bunk beds in foster.”

“I can’t ask you to sleep on the couch!  Take my bed.  This whole thing was my fault.”

“You have to work in the morning.  I really don’t mind!  You need your rest too.”  She set the last of the silverware in the dish drain, brushing her hair back with a wet hand so that is slicked up out of her eyes.

“Nope.  Either you can take the bed or I can make you.”  She didn’t realize the implications of her words until she saw Merrill’s reaction to them, a hard blush and a playful smirk.  “Maker, that didn’t come out right. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”  Her words were breathy and soft, similar to the elven she had been speaking earlier, and something in the tone brought heat up Hawke’s neck on rest on her face.

“It’s...a big bed.  You can crash with me.  If you want.”

“I would like that.”

-

Well before the sun rose, Hawke stirred to the sound of her alarm blaring.  Five AM had come way too early.  She went to sit up, shocked to find a weight holding her down to the bed.  Reaching for her phone and shining the light of her screen over the bed, breath caught in her chest as she laid eyes on her tiny elven roommate curled up against her side.  She looked calm in the dim light, a small smile on her lips as she sleepily snuggled up closer, nuzzling her head into Hawke’s shoulder as she stirred.

“What time is it?”

Merrill’s sleepy voice was gentle, slowly drawing back the memory of offering to share her bed to save the elf from the uncomfortable couch.

“Five,” She whispered back.

“Nnn...too early. Let’s go back to sleep”

There was no way she would be able to get out of bed with that offer.  Her free hand quickly plucked a number from the top of her contacts list, jamming the call button.  It rang nearly to voicemail before a groggy male voice answered.

“Hawke? Maker, it's early. What's wrong?”

“Anders, I need you to cover for me.  Something came up and I can't make it in today.”

An exaggerated sigh fell over the line.

“Let me guess, stuck in bed with your girlfriend after a fight again?”

She looked down at Merrill, now peacefully sleeping once more.

“Something like that?”

There was a groan and the shuffling of sheets in the background.

“You owe me one. Big time. Say hi to Isabela for me.”

“Can do,” she chuckled into the mic, ending the call with another word of thanks before sliding her phone back onto the nightstand.  Careful to not wake her bedmate, she shifted to her side and put an arm around Merril, hugging her close.

“Mmm... _ ma vhenan _ ….” 

“You said that last night.  What does it mean?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“My heart.”

“Is that just a common elf thing...or…”

“I mean it.”

Shit.  Hawke’s heart pumped hard enough that she was sure Merrill could heard it.  If she did, she didn’t mention it.

“I...that’s...uh.”

“You don’t have to say it.  I probably got ahead of myself .  I do that sometimes.  I’m sor-”

Merrill’s words were cut off by Hawke’s lips pressing into hers.  It was soft, timid, as if she was terrified that the elf would pull away at any second.  To her surprise, she felt small hands clinging to her, drawing her closer. 

“I love you too,” she mumbled into Merrill’s lips, giving her another brief kiss before settling her head back into her pillows.

-

“Hey lovebirds, come eat!” 

Hawke sucked in a sharp breath at Bela’s call through the door. Sunlight was streaming through her curtains, lighting up the smiling face of the girl sitting up beside her.  Her hair was a tangled mess, much like the first time she saw her, and maker, it was a good look on her.  Sitting up sleepily, she reached out a hand to Merrill’s cheek and traced the line of her delicate tattoos.

“Good morning.”

She got a small giggle in response.  How had she not noticed those little dimples that showed up when she smiled?

“Now, you two!  Breakfast is gonna taste like shit if you let it get cold!”

“We’re moving!  Hold your damn horses!”  She held back a laugh, scooting herself to the side of the bed.  “She’s gonna come drag us out of here if we don’t go.”

“And here I was hoping we could stay in bed forever.”

“You’re welcome to come back later.”

Merrill’s eyes lit up and she reached out to grab Hawke’s hand.  “Promise?”

Hawke turned her hand to lace her fingers with the slim elf’s.  “I promise.”  She let out a groan as she stood, stretching her body out after a better sleep than she’d had in months, then gently led her bedmate to her feet.  They stepped to the door together, sharing a giggle before releasing hands and stepping out to the living room.  Isabela looked the two of them over as they emerged, feigning a gagging motion before cracking a grin.

Somehow, the night had melted away the tension that Hawke was sure would be hanging around.  The three of them stood in the kitchen and chatted over a spicy rice dish that Isabela had whipped together, sharing laughs and jeers as if nothing had happened.  

“So.  You two.”  Isabela pointed at both Hawke and Merrill with her fork.  “Did you finally admit that you’ve been pining for each other or do I have to stay here longer?”

Son of a bitch.

“You pulled all of that on purpose!”

“Did you expect anything less?”  She smiled a wide, toothy grin and Hawke sighed.

“Thank you Bela.  Seriously.”  She shuffled her feet a bit, setting her empty bowl onto the counter.  “And I’m sorry.  I’ve been shitty for a long time.  You deserve better.”

“Aww Hawke, you’re gonna make me cry!”  Setting down her own bowl, she reached out and gently slugged her friend in the arm.  “And you, kitten.”  She turned to Merrill.  “If she ever pulls shit with you, call me and I’ll come set her straight again.”

“Of course, Isabela.  I think she’ll behave though.  She promised.”  

“Did she now?”

Hawke stammered to change the subject.

“So where are you going now, Bela?”

The Rivaini rocked on her heels a bit, mulling over the question.  “I’m not sure yet.  I wanna get out of Kirkwall for a while.  Maybe go across the sea for a bit?  Have to find someone to stay with first.”  

Ideas sparking in her head, Hawke held up a finger and turned towards her room.  “Hold that thought.”

-

“And why can’t she just stay with you?”

“She wants to get out of Kirkwall for a while.  Besides, I could use some...uh…”  She looked up from her phone call, setting her eyes on the elf on the floor of the living room, carefully screwing a new wooden leg onto that little green ottoman that had been kicked to the corner nearly a month prior.  “Privacy?”

“Let me ask Fenris.  One second…”  Her twin’s side of the line went quiet for a moment.  

“Tell him that I'll owe him one. Or ten. Please.”

"He says you owe him a hell of a lot more than ten, but I got him to agree. You can send her... but she  _ has  _ to listen to Fenris."

“I'm no miracle worker, but I'll pass that on.”  She paused. “And Cai? Thank you. You'll understand when you come out here to visit next.”

"Alright. Love you Dallily."

“Love you too Cai. And tell Fenris that I said to take care of you.”

Exchanging short goodbyes, she ended the call to her twin and slid her phone into the pocket of her pajama bottoms.  

“Hey Bela!  Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Isabela looked up from her phone, feigning upset before smiling.  “Fenris actually agreed?”

“Best behavior?”  

“Me?  Always.”  She rose from her place on the couch, hands on her hips.

“They can take you in for a little while.  I’ve got enough spare cash to get you there and to cover you for a week or two.  Don’t make me regret this.”

Hawke found herself pulled into a tight hug, sucking in that sunshine and sea air scent that no longer hurt to remember.  She slipped her arms around her friend, squeezing her tight as a face buried into her hair.

“Oh shoot.”  Merrill’s voice chirped from the opposite end of the room where she wobbled her ottoman back and forth, the new leg just a bit longer than the others.

“Take care of her, Dalia.  She’s a good kid.”

“I will.  I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a huge thank you to everyone who read this and left comments and kudos and encouraged me to write! Expect to see more of these two here soon, as I do have another piece with them that's in progress, as well as a few other pieces that I've been working at.
> 
> But no seriously, thank you all so much. Just knowing that someone other than myself and my betas enjoy this means the world to me!

**Author's Note:**

> A huge pile of love to both x-nolights and recurve-hawk on tumblr for reading over this for me and staying up until stupid hours of night to help me figure out the plot. They're both amazing!


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